Three Words
by GirlWhoLovesFanfiction
Summary: Alucard is forced to make a difficult decision while haunted by the ghosts of his past, present, and future.


**HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, EVERYONE! I wrote all of this in one big caffeine-induced rush for about four consecutive hours because of an idea I had on a whim. I love you all, and enjoy the feels.**

The realization finally hit him in a moment he least expected it. She was simply sitting there in her office chair, a cigar resting between her tanned lips, flipping silently through the pages of her work, and he was watching her. Thirty years, he had thought of what he had missed with her. They had never had an intimate relationship to begin with. This was a familiar sight, her busied with paperwork as the sun slowly set behind her. The quietness. He had always been _fond_ of her. And why wouldn't he have been? She was the only master (the only _human_ , really), who had met his standards in hundreds of years. Unflinching in the face of an enemy. Mind (relatively) intact. Beautiful. Poised. Deadly. She was… perfect. Surely, she had her faults. Her smoking habit still hadn't abated, but in the long run, was that anything compared to his "vices"?

The red light of the dying sun set her tanned skin aglow. Her now platinum hair shone brightly, and it almost looked as if her entire form was shimmering. Hm. A golden light to lead his way out of perdition. Or, perhaps into it. How tacky that thought was.

He couldn't help but stare. She was breathtaking.

 _Say it._

"Alucard, why are you looking at me like that?" she asked him, glancing up at him with her one good eye. Damn that fat little man. He would have loved to have feasted on him.

Alucard smiled. Her eye narrowed. Even his smile was odd. Well, odder than usual. "I missed you."

The pen halted in her hand, and all her movements came to a halt. He knew this, because he could no longer hear her breathing. Five seconds passed before she finally broke from her spell. Integra furrowed her brow. "…You're acting very strange tonight."

Her vampire rose from his seat on her sofa and strode quietly towards her desk. When he was finally at the edge, he leaned over until they were face to face, less than a foot apart. "Is that really strange, Integra? I haven't gazed upon your glory in three decades. That's a long time, even for me."

It had been three days since his return. Thus far, they had been inseparable. Integra had been startled at first to find that he had even woken at the crack of dawn every morning since to spend the days with her. She blinked. The way she did it reminded him somewhat of an owl, and his smile grew a fraction larger. Long ago, had he paid her the same compliment (which he had), she would have blushed. Now, her reaction was a little more minute. She was a big girl now, after all. "Well, it was longer for me. I'm the human here, you know."

 _Say it_ , a familiar voice whispered within him. _Say it now_.

Her words, however, held him back. Slowly, the happiness vanished from his face. For a stumbling moment, he was at a loss for words.

 _Oh, come now, little prince_ , the voice mocked. Who had said that? It wasn't a voice he remembered. _Always so sure of yourself, always so fearless. Why don't you say it? Is the son of the devil afraid of a woman's rejection?_

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?" Integra snapped.

Alucard's eyes widened. Had he said that out loud? "Not… you…" he murmured quietly, shaking his head. "Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts."

She softened. "Those must be quite some thoughts you're having," Integra replied, a faint smile on her lips. Alucard's gaze flicked towards them. They were so close.

The voice chuckled. _Some thoughts indeed._ He nearly sighed in relief. At least it didn't repeat-

 _Say it._

 _Shut up_ , he growled again, and this time careful to keep his mouth closed.

"They are. I'll admit, I'm a little at war with myself."

She scoffed, though it was in good humor. "You're always at war with something or another. Pray tell, what's on your mind?"

Was that anticipation in her gaze? No. It had to be a trick of the light.

 _Say it._

He ignored the voice. "Did you miss this, Integra?"

"'This'?"

"You know what I'm referring to. The little moments. The comfortable silences."

The light faded from her eyes. The voice sighed deeply. Mournfully. Mockingly. _Scaredy-cat. You never could say it, could you? Not unless it was too late._

 _SHUT UP! Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!_

"I've had lots of moments of silence, Count. Long moments. Too many. I don't know how you stand them. No, I don't miss silence. I thought…" she trailed off with a tired sigh. He waited eagerly for her to continue her sentence, but it was in vain. "Alucard, I need to focus. Please, let me get my work done."

 _Don't do it, don't do it,_ the voice sang. _You're slipping away! You're losing her…_

Alucard opened his mouth and drew a breath, prepared to speak the horrible words, but thought better of it. He closed his mouth with a resigned frown. "Of course, Master."

He hesitated before leaving her table, however. Before she could ask what on Earth he was doing, Alucard leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. Integra's eye was very wide when he pulled swiftly away, though the image was fleeting. He had already turned his back and was halfway across the room before his action registered. "Good evening."

And with that, he disappeared into the shadows.

**.**.**

Another dream of war.

Alucard wondered if his mind would ever tire of it. For over six hundred years now, he was trapped in the same phantasmagoria. Life. Death. Fire. Guns. Drums. Blood.

 _PAIN_.

"How does one go about slaying such a force of nature? Do you cut through wave after wave of thralls on the battlefield and take his head like one of the Teutonic Knights of old? _Nein_. He'll simply summon more of his stolen blood. But that could work in my favor, because my enemy's greatest strength is also his Achilles' heel. _Tyrants have always been especially susceptible to poison._ "

This wasn't like being shot, or eviscerated, or decapitated, or even dissected. He always had such a high tolerance for pain. Who knew he had a soul? Who knew someone could rip it apart? The masses within him, how they cried out in agony. How they screamed and thrashed and cursed his name. How many again?

Three million, four hundred and twenty-four thousand, eight hundred and sixty-seven.

All of them awake. All of them, latching their talons onto him. Into him. He was sinking. No, was he one of them? Who was he? Where was he? How had he gotten there? What was his name? Everything hurt. He was used to pain, but EVERYTHING HURT SO BADLY!

His screams of agony were lost in theirs.

THE PAIN THE PAIN THEPAINTHEPAINITHURTSITHURTSSOBAD!

They screamed. They moaned. They wept.

They were nothing, nothing but soundless screaming. Did they exist? Were they real? Was anything real? Pain was real. It had to be real. They knew it because _it was all that they could know_.

 _Enough_.

His eyes snapped open. Alucard gasped as he leaned over his chair, clutching his chest. But there was nothing in the basement. No other soul, other than his own.

Did _he_ miss the silence? He had no idea. He had never heard such quietness before. There was nothing. No screaming. No moaning. No weeping. Was that what a comfortable silence was?

"Well, Prince? Are you comfortable?"

Alucard's eyes bulged. Slowly, almost fearfully, he turned to his right.

"If you're not comfortable, then it isn't a comfortable silence."

Alucard's jaw dropped open. The woman chuckled at his display. Her silver crown shimmered in the dim blue lights of the basement. "Come now, dear. It's not like you to gape like a fish out of water. You're a right and proper monster now, aren't you? Behave like one."

"Ilona," he wheezed.

The woman inclined her head, a knowing smile on her pink lips. Wordlessly, she came to stand before him, her white dress swishing by her dainty ankles. Alucard took in a shuddering breath when she gently brushed her hand, gloriously warm and soft, against his cheek. He did not move a muscle, afraid to break the illusion. When she withdrew, her pale fingers were coated in blood. "Really, Vlad. Screaming, gasping, crying. I'd hardly think you were anything more than an overgrown infant if I didn't know you so well."

He could only stare helplessly at her. She, however, was looking down at her soiled hands in disgust. "Yuck," she grumbled, rubbing her thumb and index finger together. "That's one thing you have to worry about now that you didn't have to before. When you cry in your sleep, it must leave nasty, crusty trails down your cheeks. How uncomfortable."

"How…?" he croaked.

Ilona sighed and tilted her head. Alucard drank in the sight of her glossy black curls gliding down the side of her slender neck, exposing her bare shoulder. She smiled coyly and pressed a finger under his chin. "Eyes up here. Just because I'm manifesting in the form of a pretty woman doesn't mean you get to ignore my words, Vlad. This is, after all, the twenty-first century."

"What is this?" he demanded, his voice dropping to a snarl. "A trick? Some kind of demon?"

She smirked. "Now that's just rude, calling your wife a demon."

He glowered at her and stood from his chair. She did not take a single step backwards, even as he loomed over her. "Not as rude as dropping by unannounced, _sweetie_."

Ilona blinked. "Oh? Shall I take my leave then?"

His reaction was instantaneous. Alucard grabbed her by the wrists in a blind panic, clinging for dear life. "No!" he cried. When she made no move, he relaxed his grip. "No…"

A softer emotion overcame her expression for a moment until she mastered it. Ilona shook her head. "Release me, Vlad. I'm not leaving until I give you the stern talking-to you've been needing."

Alucard did as she commanded, though not without an irascible sneer. "A stern talking-to? Are you going to chastise me for eating too many people? Ground me for drinking too much blood? Bend me over your knee for my naughty acts of butchery?" His sneer became risqué. "I think I'd really enjoy that last bit. For old time's sake?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "You do know I'm dead, right?"

Alucard's hands grazed her hips playfully. "No deader than me, sugar."

"Irredeemable wretch!" she laughed. "My God, to think the years have done nothing to tame that lecherous tongue of yours!"

He laughed along with her, noting that for the first time in a long time, it wasn't with malice. When they finished, however, the room grew somber again. "Ilona," he said, this time calmly. "What is this, really?"

Ilona placed her hands over his chest and brushed, almost as if she were trying to smooth out his suit. The blood had somehow vanished from her hands. "I wasn't lying, Vlad. I'm here to talk to you."

"And then leave," he growled bitterly.

Her blue eyes- eyes that looked a little too much like Integra's- twinkled. "That's what ghosts do. They haunt you for a little while, and then they take their leave." She looked him in the eyes, and her gaze was solemn. "After this, you will not ever see me again."

Funny. His chest suddenly hurt, right where she rested her palms. "That seems about right," he replied tightly. "So. Tell me, what have I done worth coming back to life to yell at me for? Surely it must be something quite different from my usual transgressions."

Ilona let out a soft snort. "Indeed. You finally, _finally_ did something right, and then you went and squandered your only chance at happiness. That woman- Integra Hellsing. She's someone you don't meet every day, isn't she?"

"Certainly not."

"And you love her, don't you?"

"Why? Are you jealous?"

She gave him a reprimanding glare. "No. I'm ecstatic. You very seldom open your heart to women, and it's usually to the wrong ones. But this one. _This_ one has my seal of approval. She's got the heart to love you, the wisdom to know you, and the spine to keep you in your place. And you know it. So why didn't you tell her?"

"It wouldn't be fair to her," Alucard said. "I love her enough to know that it isn't fair to her, like it wasn't for you. I know how this song and dance ends, Ilona. I've played this game too many times not to see the outcome. It always ends miserably."

"Maybe it won't."

"No, it _will_. You want me to tell you the outcome? Fine. I'll tell you. I tell her I love her. She calls me a monster and denies me. And since I'm an idiot who doesn't know when to quit, she locks me up in the dungeon again and maybe even swallows the key."

"That doesn't sound like her."

"No. That sounds like Mina. Maybe she says she loves me back. The years drag on, and she stays human, and I stay young and beautiful and undead, and eventually, she withers away into dust, the fate of all living creatures. Then I'm haunted by _her_ ghost too, just like yours. Did you know I saw her while I was still destroying myself over those thirty years? Usually it was just her face. The face she wore when I told her I was disobeying her orders. The face she wore when I died."

"She's still a virgin. You've always got that."

"Yeah? I'll bet she'd make a lovely vampire. A beautiful No-Life Queen. Except I tried that too, didn't I? The brides. I dabbled in polygamy for a little while, just to test it. It didn't really suit me. You remember what happened to them? I once thought they were beautiful. They turned into sorry excuses for vampires, didn't they? What a magic trick that was. I managed to turn those vibrant, charming women into hollow corpses."

"Your specialty _is_ sucking the life out of people," Ilona joked. "What if she doesn't become a hollow corpse like you say?"

"Then she either stops loving me- which means that we'll eventually have to try to kill each other- or one of us dies while we're both in love. And since I'm the one who currently seems to be _fucking invincible_ , that means she dies first in both scenarios."

"And if you don't tell her, you both suffer anyways." Ilona pouted mockingly. "Hmm… such a conundrum you have here, Prince." When his reply was an irritable growl, she rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly. I'd pistol-whip you if I could lift the damn gun out of your coat. Out of the two of us, I never imagined that _I_ would have to be the one to remind you. _There are no happy endings_."

"I never thought there were," Alucard snapped. "That was beaten into me since I was a child."

Ilona sighed. "You're still a terrible liar, Vlad. And to think, you used to kill people for being dishonest." She poked him harshly between his brows. "Think! As a man, you believed that if you killed enough heathens and butchered enough unworthy, God would grant you your Jerusalem. As a count, you thought that if you could just be discreet enough, you'd live the life of luxury in Carfax, a pretty woman at your side for all eternity. As a slave, you thought that the war with Millennium and Iscariot would grant you a worthy opponent to finally chop your head off, stake your heart, and scatter your ashes at a crossroads, like Van Helsing would have if he hadn't thought a pet vampire might come in handy."

When he said nothing, she continued. "Death is the endgame of all things, Vlad. Whether you praise it or curse it, it's there. It's indifferent. And it's damn painful, no matter if it's you or someone you love. Life isn't meant to be _happy_. It's meant to be hard, hard enough that you can just scarcely bear it. The best thing you can do is try to _make it more bearable_."

Alucard paused, mulling over her words. Finally, he dipped his head in acknowledgment (and perhaps a little exhaustion). "Fine, then. I concede. I'll tell her."

Ilona smiled. "There's a good boy. And don't think you're not being fair to her by telling her how you feel. It'd be cruel to keep her waiting."

"So that's it, then?" he asked. "That's all you wanted to say."

"That's it," she responded.

"I'll never see you again."

She chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. "No. But you won't need to. You used to see me at your worst moments, remember? I was your One. Once you say what you need to say out loud, it'll be Integra. You'll superimpose her image over mine, because she's the one you really need. You already started doing that, remember? You remembered her face for those thirty years, not me."

"But I love you," he said, and it sounded so petulant that she had to laugh again. This seemed a little too much like what a conversation between a child and its imaginary friend might look like before he grew up.

"I know. But you don't need me."

"Just tell me one thing." She cocked her head, waiting. "What's it like, being truly dead?"

Ilona's smile became melancholic, though it did not break. "Come closer, and I'll tell you."

Alucard leaned his head down, curious to hear her answer.

Her lips captured his, and he knew.

**.**.**

"How nice of you to return, Alucard. A little late, but how nice," Integra said, setting her pen down on her desk. The moon had risen behind her. Fitting that this conversation would happen during the night.

"You know how I make a habit of returning late," he replied, emerging from a shadowy portal.

"Quite right. Would you mind explaining your peculiar behavior from earlier?"

"Not at all. I know I have irked you, and I shall amend that. The truth is, I was debating whether I should tell you the truth about something."

Integra folded her hands together neatly. Expectantly. Regally. "Well? What have you to say for yourself?"

He grinned.

She really was perfect.


End file.
